The Human Experience
by IrishBabby
Summary: Myla Fet is characteristically a wild card. She hasn't seen her brother in two years, but managed to shape up her life enough to return to Brooklyn and face the plague living within New York.
1. Lumen

The Lumen:

 **Church of the Good Shepherd:**  
 **Roosevelt Island, Manhattan**

 _Vasiliy Fet had been working hard to keep himself from being distracted. Since the start of this plague, several things had weighed heavily on him. He would often replay that final conversation he had with his father. Vasiliy could replay almost every argument they'd ever had. "My son quits school to hunt rats? Why kind of job is that? What kind of life is that?"_

 _"Not much of one now, Dad."_ Vasiliy fiddled with his jacket as he got out of the car. The cold wind was warmer than his father had ever been to him. Years of trying to make everyone happy, years of just wanting to be a family, and then... for the last two years - nothing. Not from anyone.

Vasiliy often wondered if his father had taken his advice. The same day his father had asked him to leave Vasiliy had called his sister, left her a message to see if she could talk some sense into them. But Vasiliy had never heard from any of them... but how was that any different from the last two years?

Vasiliy shrugged his shoulders as an answer to his own question. Tonight was important, and he really didn't need anything on his mind, as he knew in all likelihood the professor was bound to get him shot somehow. Vasiliy figured it was a good idea to focus on making sure that didn't happen.

 _"We will possess the Lumen by any means necessary, whether be buy it, or fight for it, or we will die trying." Abraham had told him._

 _"Let's try to avoid that third option, yeah?" Vasily has told him in the car ride over. "I kinda like my head."_

 _"And I assure you, I quite like mine." the professor had snipped back._

At least the island was secure, Vasiliy would only have to worry about the return journey back to the city. If they got out after dark, those munchers were sure to come after them. That is if they made it out with that book at all. For all he knew these gangbanger types could take their money and keep the book.

The two of them were ushered into the church by several armed men.

"Welcome professor, I'm glad to see you made it. It's gonna be a good time. First I'm gonna have to ask that you and your friend here check all your weapons. You'll get 'em back after we're done."

Alonso's men where well armed, and as Vasily and the Professor relinquished their own weapons, Vasiliy felt vulnerable. They offered him a glass of champagne, he'd be damned if he was going to trade in his piece of re bar for a fluted glass.

"A drink, professor?"

"No thank you," Abraham said.

"Alright I'ma have one for you." Alonso said. "I'm gonna ask that you verify your funds right over here with Myla. And good luck to you professor."

He wasn't quite sure what to think when the professor handed over their account information to the raven haired girl behind the desk. Vasiliy's eyes grew wide with disbelief, his head felt of deja-vu, how could this even be possible?

This girl... she had been on his mind every day. But to see her now, his mind tried to convince him it was someone else

"Myla." He whispered.

She looked well. At least she looked better than when he'd last seen her. She had put back on a healthy weight, and let her dark hair grow long like she used to when she was a kid. But what the hell was she doing here, Roosevelt Island of all places?

Vasiliy continued to stare as she whispered into the receiver, giving Alonso a nod that their funds were available. He still didn't believe it was her. But there was that damn tattoo on her left shoulder, the small white dove would always remind him of her.

"Who's this guy?" Alonso asked.

Vasiliy tore away his gaze to see that Nazi bastard waltz in with that dumb fucking smile.

"Were going to need to see your weapons." Alonso's men asked.

"I don't have any weapons." Eichorst said.

"And who are you?"

"I am Thomas Eichorst, Mr. Palmer's emissary. I will be bidding in his place."

"If you've got gold, you can bid. Just uh register your funds right over there."

"Of course." Eichorst said with a grin.

Vasiliy watched as Eiccorst handed Myla his account information, and in that moment a distasteful shiver ran down Vasiliy's spine as the German touched her skin.

"Here is my account information, which all will be verified." Eichorst said.

Myla picked up the phone again to verify the German's funds.

"Where is Palmer?" Abraham asked.

"This transaction is far too important, so it is I who will have the honor of acquiring the Lumen. Isn't it ironic that our duel shall not end with a fight but a simple transaction of gold." Eichorst turned his attention to the Professor, the same shit eating grin on his face.

"I assure you our duel shall end with a transaction in silver. Seeing as how the Master passed you over for Bolivar. Does it hurt to be bound by loyalty to one so unimpressed by you?" Setrakian scolded. His attempt to scold the creature seemed to strike a nerve nestled somewhere within his stinger.

"Does it not pain you to tally all the things I've taken from you already?" he retorted.

"You are a vile creature, Eichorst." Setrakian spat.

"If it were up to me, I would drain you dry, and then snap your neck... but alas the Master has plans for you yet. Turning you will bring you to become a part of something you've fought so long against."

"Never. I will release you to die, like the soulless appendage you are." Abraham spat.

"I'm pretty sure he's right. It's too bad all these guys are watchin' us, cause I'm dying to stick a piece of re bar in your right ear, and watch it come out your left." Vasiliy said, stepping between the two. He was focused on not letting Eichorst come between the professor, or near Myla for that matter. Vasiliy was even afraid to confront her now that Eichorst had entered the room. All he needed was to give the creature a reason to go after her... just like he had with Dutch.

Alonso was given the go ahead and now Vasiliy had turned around to find that Myla's eyes had now found his own. He wasn't sure, but she looked... relieved. Vasiliy knew he at least felt a piece of him relax, at least, as much as he could when he was in the same room as Thomas Eichorst.

"Your banks have agreed to convert your funds into gold based upon the current exchange rate. Highest dollar value bid wins." Alonso said practically grinning. "Now what number should I start at-"

"Five Million." Abraham said.

"Five it is."

"Ten Million."

"Fifteen"

"Do I hear twenty?"

"Thirty."

"Fifty."

"Alright um, I'm gonna have to catch my breath here." Alonso said, this time his grin was from ear to ear. He took a sip of champagne as the two men continued to clamor over the book.

"One-Hundred Million."

"Two-Hundred."

"three hundred million!"

"Hold up." Alonso's heart was beating rapidly, he'd never made this much money before in just a matter of minutes. "I propose that the man with the most gold will win this book for exactly one dollar more than the losing bid. Deal?"

"Agreed." Abraham said.

"Agreed." Eichorst said.

"Myla, if you'd please." Alonso asked.

Myla nodded. She glanced at Vasiliy as she picked up the receiver. She wasn't sure how the hell Vas had over three hundred million dollars to bid with. She had seen the book before, when Alonso had returned it to his safe. Myla knew the cover was made of silver, but not three hundred million dollars worth of silver.

"Yes, I have the max amounts." She said, looking to Vasiliy and then back to Alonso.

"Start with Mr. Setrakian here." Alonso pointe to the frail looking man.

"Mr. Setrakian's account will allow... yes, mmhmm. Three-hundred and twenty-three million dollars." Myla said.

"Shit. 323 Mil?" Alonso took in a deep breath. " This must be some kinda book." he looked back to gaze at the silver façade. "And the German?"

"Three-hundred and fifty-one point eight million." Myla said with a solemn sound to her voice. She looked at Vasiliy with apologetic eyes.

"Sold! To the German for 323 million and one dollar. Sorry professor, I was really rooting for you on this one." Alonso finished his glass of champagne, " Transfer those funds to my account right-fuckin now. And gimme that damn book."

The German looked to his left and with that sly smile still on his face, "It's over now Abraham. Nothing can stop him."

Vasiliy watched the gears turning in Myla's head. "Don't do it. Don't get involved." Vasiliy whispered. Vasiliy shook his head.

"Could you place it in a canvas bag for me?" Eichorst asked.

"Hell. For three hundred and twenty three mil. I'd gift wrap the damn thing." Alonso said.

"Alonso," Myra said interrupting, "I uh- I'm sorry, but Mr. Eichorst's privileges on this gold account have been revoked. They won't allow me to transfer the funds."

Vasiliy looked at her hand, her finger had just disconnected the line.

"What?" Alonso asked.

"I'm sorry, but they've disconnected me." Myla stated. She saw the German man look at her now, his eyes angry.

"Sorry day for the German then. I guess you win after all professor."

"No, I assure you, this is a mistake." Eichorst said taking a step towards Myla. "Allow me to rectify this mistake, I will call the bank and get this error sorted out."

"No. Sorry, but 323 mil is 323 mil." Alonso said, this time stepping towards Eichorst. Setrakian gratefully accepted the book from Alonso. Eichorst only became more furious.

Vasiliy stepped around to Myla's desk as Eichorst grabbed Alonso's lapels and his stinger began to rattle. Several men with guns were able to get Eichorst to submit... but the sun was going down, Eichorst knew he had the night on his side.

Vasiliy turned around, "You comin?"

Myla nodded. "Outside. Give me two minutes"

Vasiliy and the Professor grabbed their weapons and retreated to daylight. Vasiliy was hesitant climbing into the truck, as he hadn't seen Myla leave the church yet and he wasn't sure how to tell the professor to wait...

But then she appeared out of a back door to the church. Sneakers replaced the fancy shoes she'd been wearing before, they didn't exactly match the dress she had on. It reminded him of that last time he's seen his sister, just before she had disappeared.

Myla hopped in the truck, and took a seat in the back. The professor gave Fet a curious look.

"Procuring women now?" Setrakian asked, seemingly irritated.

"Sort of." Fet answered. Vasiliy quickly stepped on the gas and headed back into town. There was no way in hell they were going to make it back in time.

"We just need to get to the damn bridge." Vasiliy was thinking of his flat in Red Hook... but they were going to be followed. He couldn't blow their cover.

"Mr Fet, I know we are in a hurry, but if you keep accelerating at this rate we will roll over the first turn you take."

"Don't mind him, he's always had a bit of a lead foot." Myla said from the back of the truck.

"Wanna explain what the hell you're doing in New York?" Vasiliy asked her.

"You. Mostly."

"Mostly? What does that mean."

"Mr. Fet maybe you should drive first, talk later."

"Yeah and just why the hell am I racing to get back to the city when you don't have any sense to call some backup? Those ancients outta have connections and shit. Why not use 'em?"

"Mr, Fet I regret that I have kept some things from you, I do not intend to give the Lumen to the ancients."

"Well you coulda told me that part professor. It's not like I'm-"

CRASH.

The truck was hit, pivoting slightly off course. Both Vasiliy and the professor looked at one another. Darkness had been upon them for less than a minute. The truck fishtailed, pinning itself against a grate and the vehicle that had struck them.

"There are no belts back here!" Myla said.

"Well you better hold on tight." Vasiliy said. "We got a whole bunch of munchers coming, and I'm not waitin' around!"

Fet punched the gas. They weren't moving.

Both Vasiliy and the professor stared down at the horde of Stragoi running towards them.

Vasiliy hit the gas again.

"Come on… come on!"

The truck sprang free at the last possible moment, Stragoi were throwing themselves onto the truck, trying to feed on them through the vehicle's defenses. Setrakian shot a few nails through the window, just as the truck sprang free. Only to roll forward to find more Stragoi, and more trucks to stop them.

"Go professor." Fet said.

Setrakian slipped into the back surprised to see Myla already holding two guns, at least the girl seemed useful.

Fet joined them in the back of the truck. He looked sad, Myla didn't think there was any hope.

"Sorry to go out so soon like this, kid." Vasiliy told her.

Myla gave Vasiliy a quick embrace, "We're not dead yet."

"Yes, let's not make this easy on them." Setrakian nodded.

Vasiliy opened several small side gates to the truck as the three of them unloaded bullets into whatever they could see.

Shots could be heard from outside. Myla looked at the stragoi now paying attention to the gunmen across at the overpass.

"Calvary?" Myla asked.

'No. Somebody else joined the party. Munchers are going' after them now."

"Any way out?" Myla asked.

"The floor." Vasiliy said. "Be quick, don't let any of them see you."

The professor and Vasiliy pulled the metal grate back from the floor of the truck.

"Well god's looking after us after all." Vasiliy as he saw the manhood cover just below them. He took a crowbar and pulled the cover from the sewer. Myla went first, hearing nothing but gunfire and two men beside the truck.

"You were wise not to come tonight, cowardly, but wise."

She ignored it as the professor had begun to follow her down the ladder.

"Quick now." Vasiliy said as he hit the ground. "Lets get the hell outta here!"

* * *

It wasn't long before Vasiliy had led them to the exit. Myla climbed up first, and helped the professor, as Vasiliy followed. "We're gonna need that boat." Vasiliy pointed out. Myla nodded, but Vasiliy found her raising her hands in defense.

"Hey pawnbroker."

Gus Elizalde now held a gun to them, Vasiliy was a quick draw, but Myla had never even seen him fire a gun, how did he get himself into this kind of shit?

"Try me big boy." Gus taunted. "You're lucky I don't shoot you for making me walk through that sewer."

Myla had a few guns pointed at her during her line of work, one of the many reasons she'd left. Carrying a pistol in her bag everyday had become a burden to her, but at least now she was grateful she'd learned how to use one.

"Back off man. Just walk away." Vas told him.

"I'm talking to Mr. Setrakian here. You made a deal old man, I'm here to see that you honor it."

"Who the hell is this guy any way?" Vas asked.

"An former customer." Setrakian said. "I am not giving this book to you. Or to the ancients. Or to anyone. I'm going to walk onto that boat, and either you are going to shoot me, and Mr. Fet is going to shoot you. Or-"

"-Or..." said that voice. That same voice she'd heard fleeing the truck. He had followed them. Myla's eyes became glued to the pale man now making the threats. He was perhaps the strangest thing she'd even seen, and in a way - the most beautiful. "... I could kill both of you." he finished.

"This guy?" Vas sighed. There was a thick silence, death threats now given to members of each party.

"Mr. Quinlan..." the professor began. "You did not come all this way to do the ancients bidding. I know who you are."

"Do you?" Quinlan asked.

"I know what you want. And it's not this book." Setrakian said.

"Same old pawn broker... making' deals. Careful Quinlan, or you're gonna end up with a broken clock!" Gus said.

"The ancients will destroy this book, rather than allow its secrets to be revealed, and when they do... they will destroy the one item in the world the master desires."

"But as long as this book exists..." Quinlan said, eyes opening with realization that the old man was right.

"it is bait. If you want the Master... he will come for whoever possesses it. That I guarantee you."

Myla watched has Quinlan's lips turn upwards into a smile.

* * *

Finding herself on a boat with a couple of thugs, a professor, her brother, and a... well whatever he was, wasn't exactly something she would have predicted.

"Well, you look. You look good." Vasiliy told her. It was the first formal sentence he'd spoken to her since they had run into each other less than two hours ago. Two hours for two whole years. What a day.

"Thanks Vas." Myla said.

"You uh, been doi'; alright down in that place?"

"Yeah, I've been clean for over a year Vas." Myla said with pride.

"That... makes me really happy." Vasiliy said. "After you'd vanished, I didn't know what to think. Ma told me, after you never said goodbye."

"Sorry about that Vas." Myla whispered.

"You talk to mom and dad much?" Vasiliy asked.

"Not as much as you'd think, mom called on my birthdays and last Christmas. But Dad still, well you know." Myla said.

"So they didn't come out to see you, before all this? I was hoping they would." Vasiliy said.

"That's how I ended up here. Couldn't get them on the phone after you left me that message. I suppose they could have headed south met up with that crazy aunt Georgie."

"Yeah, it's a possibility, even though I'm pretty sure dad hates her more than the two of us combined." Vasiliy said.

How are we related to her again?" Myla smiled.

"I have no idea," Vasiliy said. They both laughed.

"So how'd you end up on that island?" Vasiliy asked.

"He owed me a favor from, well you know... from The Fairy. And I uh, went looking for you, found some random people coming and going at your place, didn't think you were there anymore."

"No I'm still there. Well. We were, it's kinda all shot to shit now with all these munchers after us now."

"Yeah about that, how'd you end up spending 343 million over some book?"

"It ain't just some book. That book, the professor, says is our best shot at stopping this thing. I've put everything I've got left into that man, I'm just left praying for some kinda outcome where we ain't all dead." Vasiliy told her.

"I suppose you ain't got a place for me, wherever it is you're headed?" Myla asked.

"I wouldn't plan on it any other way." Vasiliy said. "I'm glad you're here."

Myla took minute to give the professor and Vasiliy some time to chat. It was a good excuse to enjoy the water on last time. Who new how long it would be until she would see it again. She'd never fathomed what had been going on up here, but when she'd finally gotten to Alonso, getting around was hard.

"Smoke?" Gus asked her.

"Yeah, I'll take one." Myla said. It was when she saw his brand of cigarettes that she remembered him. "It's been awhile Elizalde."

"I know you?" Gus asked.

"It's been a really long time. I don't expect you to-" Myla was cut off, by a smile and a face of recognition.

"No... Lavender? That really you?" Gus asked. "Didn't recognize you without the hair."

"Not Lavender anymore, but yeah, that was me." Myla said.

"Haven't been by the Green Fairy in a while." Gus said. "Found myself in a little shit."

"Haven't we all?" Myla said lighting her cigarette.

"You sticking with this bunch?" Gus asked.

"The big one's my brother." Myla said.

"Then maybe we'll run into each other again some time, yeah?"

"Maybe." Myla said as she smiled. She found herself doing that flirting thing she'd come to hate. It came so natural to her. Perhaps having a shit father, and working at the Green Fairy since she was seventeen, taught her more than a few bad habits.

But what could she do, she was her old self, and her new self.

As Gus walked away, Myla looked over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the pale man at the bow of the boat. Their eyes locked for a moment - a moment that was sharp, and awkward - but she couldn't help but want to turn back around after she'd turned away.


	2. Olympian

"Where do we go?" Vasiliy asked.

They had procured another stolen vehicle. A large black SUV that had seated the four of them comfortably. They had left the boat at first light, and now as they drove through the streets, Myla realized just how bad things had become. The last time she had been out in the city was with Alonso and some of his men, they hadn't seen nearly as many abandoned cars or looted shops.

"Your apartment?" Setrakian asked.

"If it is a place you wish to protect, I would not stay there. We are being followed." Quinlan stated.

"By who?" Vasily asked.

"Not sure. Perhaps sun hunters."

"Stonehart is more likely." Setrakian said.

"So where can I lose 'em?"

Myla reached into her bag, unsure if it still kept the same secrets it did before. She'd often clipped hotel cards, club cards, and private member cards to the inner zipper.

The one she was looking for was still clipped there, heavy, with the magnetic strip still in place.

"I have an idea." Myla said. "The Olympian - its not far from here. If you speed up, lose the tail we can pull into the underground parking lot."

"Those lots have gates and key cards - we won't be able to get in." Vasiliy said.

Myla dangled the keycard between Vasiliy and Setrakian.

Vasiliy took the key card and inspected it carefully. Neither Vasiliy or Myla liked where the keycard had come from, but with the black sedan behind them creeping closer and closer...

"Theres food." Myla said. "Rooms."

"Well whatever gets us away from these guys." Vasiliy said.

Vasiliy sped up, winding the car through a few side streets, and even one alleyway before he found the entrance to the parking garage. In one swift movement, he held his hand out to he scanner, and the gates lifted. Quickly and quietly, they had disappeared from sight.

"We should sweep the place." Vasiliy said. "Myla, why don't you wait in the car?"

Myla cocked her eyebrow as the three men exited the vehicle. The underground didn't have a large amount of space. The spots available were allowed for individuals on the lease, and the lease only. Guest parking was always elsewhere, but that was New York for you.

Vasiliy pressed the button on the elevator. The light lit up, and dimmed again.

Quinlan joined Vasiliy's side after checking the shadows and nearby cars for anything unwelcome.

Vasiliy pressed the button again.

"What the hell is wrong with this thing?" he said.

Myla stepped beside him, scanning the key card against another magnetic reader and hitting the call button.

"Stay in the car? You sure you won't get lost without me?" she asked. The elevator doors opened.

"Well." Vasiliy said between his teeth. "Unlike you, I've never been here before."

Myla didn't like the accusatory tone that came from her brother. But she stepped in the elevator anyway. Myla held the same pistol she'd taken from the truck. The three of them followed her to the first floor. There, they checked the kitchens, finding shelves full of food - and luckily, not stragoi.

The next several floors were empty, except for the 5th and 6th, which contained a few turned men and women. Vasiliy and Quinlan had killed most of them. While the professor caught a few of the wounded with his sword. Myla managed to shoot two, killing one.

They made it to the eleventh floor. Finally settling on the top floor as the safest place to stay. Quinlan saw the height as an advantage point, and mentioned the fire escape as a possible option should they need to escape. Vasiliy was happy to have a room with a shower, running water was hard to come by, and few buildings still had reserves.

Now that the building was clear, Myla felt an ease fall over her. She watched as the professor removed his coat to settle into a nearby chair, the Lumen on his lap.

Vasiliy grumbled under his breath. "I'll take that small room in the back. I'm going to get some shut eye."

"How we planning on being here for?" Myla asked.

"As long as it takes." Setrakian said.

"Alright then."

Myla's sweater was spread across the cool cement, as she continued to stargaze from the roof. Night had fallen, Vasiliy and Quinlan had left. Myla had stolen Gus's cigarettes before they had departed - she had made her way to the roof to have one, and had become distracted by the far off gun shots, and the color the burning buildings made in the night.

Myla was keeping an eye on the professor. Babysitting it seemed. But he didn't move much, always reading, and saying nothing.

Myla's eyes rolled as she thought of Vasiliy. It was so typical of him to leave her behind while he went off to handle things. They had fallen back into what they used to be, a college kid who came home on the weekends and told his baby sister to do as she was told.

Something about their situation bothered her. All the memories of their father came flooding back. His stern lectures about making a life in America worth it. She had even heard a semblance of their father's voice when Vasiliy had spoke to her about the Olympian. A bit of disappointment seemed to slip out at the end of his sentence... Myla had to push it to the back of her mind.

She remembered being here before. Hired for private parties. Something Vasiliy knew, but didn't really want to know. She supposed that the conversation would come back eventually. It always did.

When morning came, Vasiliy still wasn't back, but Quinlan had returned. The pale man had avoided all of them at first, unsure if he wanted to trust any of them. But he was just as entranced by that book as the professor was.

Later in the day, Myla brought the professor a bowl of soup, something he didn't seem to even notice. But that gave her a moment to view the two of them. Both of them were trying to read the book, sharing the page.

Making a few copies might be a good idea.

She slightly enjoyed watching them argue. It was like watching two professors of history argue what came first. Only, both of them had actually lived it. Abraham had lived a very long life, but as frail as he was, he could still cut down a stragoi without a second thought.

Quinlan on the other hand seemed to be fluent in Latin, and the longer their conversation went on she realized that Quinlan was older than she had expected An original gladiator. And for some reason that made her blush.

When night had fallen, and Vasiliy still had't returned, Myla decided it was okay to worry about him now. Quinlan had left again, sword at his back and guns at his side. But at least she knew Quinlan was likely to return. 'Damn Vasiliy always does what he wants.' she heard her father say.

She tried to sleep that night. But to no avail. She could only toss and turn, so she left her room. She eyed the liquor cabinet, full well knowing a glass or two would certainly help her get to sleep.

Instead she found the professor, still sitting there, soup untouched.

It was roughly four am, Myla sat next to the professor, she touched his arm, and his gaze slowly drifted to her.

"I think you need a little sleep professor." Myla stated.

"I suppose... you are right." he sighed. Perhaps the words on the page were becoming blurry, maybe the lack of food had finally gotten to him.

She helped the professor his feet, Myla offered to take the Lumen, and it seemed he only handed it to her out of exhaustion.

The one moment moment she had stepped away from him, the professor fell.

Myla fell to her knees, the Lumen sliding away from them as the professor clutched his chest.

"Tell me how to help you!" Myla said.

"My... my..."

"Your pills!" Myla fumbled through his coat on the couch, she could hear the pills rattling, but couldn't manage to find the damn pocket.

"No... here." he said, as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small vial.

"What do I do?"

"One drop... each eye." he said in between gasps.

Myla's hands shook as she took out the dropper, and placed one white drop in each of the professor's eyes.

That only seemed to make it worse. He shook violently, and seemed to be in incredible pain. She could only take his hands as he cried out.

Then it all stopped.

"Professor... Abraham!" she said.

His hand was wrapped around her arm, but from his wrist she could feel a pulse, and it felt strong.

Quinlan made her jump when he knelt down next to her.

"What happened?" Quinlan asked.

"He fell... I gave him - I don't know what I gave him!"

Quinlan thumbed the vial, almost angry at what it was. "The White." he whispered.

"What can we do?" Myla asked. Her eyes couldn't look away from his pale fingers holding that vial.

"We get him to bed. He'll be fine come morning."

"You're sure?" she asked.

"If he's been using it this long, I'm sure he'll feel ten years younger in the morning."

Myla looked into Quinlan's eyes. Noticing for the first time how truly icy they were.

There was nothing warm about the man. Killing, Killing... Killing.

That was all he talked about right? He was just a man with a bloodthirsty vendetta that was over two thousand years old.

Just a man.

So why was she holding his hand?

Myla had taken his hand in her right, while the professor's hands were still wrapped around her left arm. Her knuckles were white, she had been squeezing Quinlan's palm, realizing now he had the warmest hands. Their heat eased any icy glare his eyes could produce. And with that simple touch, she felt herself calm.

"I understand you're frightened. He will be okay. I promise."

When she let a breath back into her lungs her hand slipped away from his, and Quinlan was free to carry the professor to the nearby couch.

For the time being, he would keep an eye on him. He knew it would ease the girls fear.

"You can go back to bed now." Quinlan said. How low voice startling her again.

"What was that I gave him?"

"It is..." Quinlan sighed. "A complicated substance. It is a form of what keeps me alive, made to keep him alive. The man is nearly ninety-four."

"Just a fraction of your life I take it?"

"And who told you about me?" he asked.

"No one, you -" Myla swallowed. Was he this frightening before? "- I assumed when you corrected the professor's latin by making him understand there is a syllable difference between fighting with someone... and literally fighting with someone."

"Perhaps I was once a student." Quinlan said, a slight smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth.

"Students usually don't joke about Julius Agricola taking the saying literally and defeating a small army... with their own arms."

"Perhaps I read it in a book once."

Myla laughed. His coy demeanor and playful reaction to talking about himself had brought her a great ease.

"Not with the look you had on your face. You looked as though you were remembering it."

Quinlan looked down at the floor. And back at her, this time with a smile on his face. "Caledonians were poor soldiers. It made for a believable story."

Myla eyes brightened as she smiled back at him.

"To be so old... you must have many good stories." Myla said.

"Few good stories. But sadly few."

Myla watched the smile fade from his face.

"Get some rest. I'll watch over him." Quinlan said.

Myla nodded, one moment he could be so inviting, and the next be so cold. 'Few good stories.' the way he had said it had made her so sad.

A few hours later, Myla woke up to a quiet apartment. She left her room, dressing in a pair of jeans, and simple t-shirt. She would need to find more clothes soon, unless she found a way to wash them.

Setrakian was in the same seat as the night before. Still reading the Lumen.

"Coffee professor?" she asked.

He didn't respond.

"Professor." she said more sternly this time.

"Hmm. Yes?" he asked, still not looking up from his book.

"Coffee?" she asked. "Do you want one?'"

"Oh, yes. Hmm."

Myla had taken the pot from the kitchen, pouring herself a black cup of coffee, and one for the professor.

"Sugar." Setrakian said.

Myla added generous spoonful of sugar.

She handed him the cup and took a seat across from him, adding her own personal sweetener to the her cup as usual.

She noticed Quinlan in the corner, reading from a piece of paper. It was a handwritten copy Setrakian had given him to translate. Myla wondered what they had been so entranced with that a mere vocal communication was too great a challenge.

Myla had let them be for a time as she explored the tenth floor. She had found a pair of shoes that fit her, and a t-shirt or two. But she had come back to find the two men bickering about the definition of the word Vrykolakas.

"Vampire" she mumbled under her breath. Quinlan had heard her. Both of them looking at her. "Or wolf. But it depends on your Romanian or..."

"And how do you know this?" Abraham asked.

"Well I wasn't born in the Ukraine, but don't all mothers talk to their children in their native tongue?" Myla asked.

"But you have no accent?" Abraham asked.

"Vasiliy was born there. I came... some six years after my family emigrated. With their accents getting weaker, and going to public school I managed to sound like I was just from Brooklyn."

The Professor smiled at her. "Please explain to us why that word can mean vampire or wolf."

"It means to feast on blood. To need blood." Myla tried to remember the story in her mother's voice. "A creature that needs blood. but dlaka means strain of hair. So you get yuk and dlaka to gather and you get... a wolf with fur that eats blood. I believe it was a story about a great wolf, and when he was killed, he became a powerful vampire. The vrykolaka then became more and more powerful the longer it was left alone, legends said that one should destroy its body. According to some accounts, this can only be done on a Saturday, which is the only day when the vrykolaka rests in its grave - thats how you get the stake to the heart, beheading... you know the things from the movies."

"Your mother taught you all this?" Quinlan asked.

"Well it was my duty to help her cook and clean, and to pass the time we liked to tell stories. Vasiliy was supposed to help our father, he got a job when he was fourteen and had been working ever since. I lived with my 'head in the clouds' he liked to tell me. But they were just stories. Myths of monsters and ghosts. Things my grandmother told her, and her mother before her."

"Someone told me once... there are no myths, only exaggerations." The professor said. There was a small glance between the two men. "Did you mother ever tell you of a polish tale, about a man named Sardu?"

"The tall man with a cane? Yes I remember it. It was to scare children, the story of the boogeyman."

"A man who stole children away from their homes, luring them with treats... and that sound... pick, pick, pick."

"And you're telling me this was not just a story?" Myla asked.

"Sardu was very real. So was the creature before him. The same creature that snatched his body. And the same creature we hunt now."

Myla could still hear her mother's voice. "The children would leave their beds hoping to find treats and spoils... but these children never returned home again..."

"He is the man who made me as I am today. The master. My father." Quinlan said.

Myla had sat around for another few hours while they argued about the latin, greek, and slavic translations.

By four in the afternoon, Myla had enough and took the elevator to the ground floor. She had walked a few blocks to the print shop and ripped their best copier from the wall. She made sure to fill the tray with paper before she loaded it into a cart and pushed it out of the front door.

"You looting now?" Vasiliy asked from behind her.

"Hardly. Borrowing." Myla said back.

"You left the apartment? I specifically told you to stay with the Professor."

"I'm not a baby Vas. I can do what I want. Quinlan and the Professor can't translate the book sitting in each other's laps."

"Maybe I don't trust Quinlan, and we shouldn't give him an extra reason to stick around."

"Quinlan is harmless." Myla said. "Well... not strictly speaking, but-"

"Oh you're friends now?"

"I'm sorry. But did you not leave me alone with two strangers for forty-eight hours and expect me to not talk to them?"

"LiuLiu."

"Don't call me that. You now I hate that."

"Yeah well I don't exactly like finding you at Alonso's or with the keycard to the Olympian just hanging out in your bag. Do I have anymore tricks to look forward to?"

"Do do that Vas. Don't go there. You've been gone for two days! I have the right to worry, I have the right to be upset."

"I didn't want you to leave... it's not safe out here!"

"You think I don't know that? I left during daylight didn't I?"

Myla turned away from Vasiliy, pushing the copier further down the street.

"Myla don't walk away from me."

Myla continued to walk. Hearing Vasiliy steps close behind her.

"LIUDMYLA."

Myla turned around. She didn't know why Vasiliy could get like this with her, why he could act so much like their father, and only when it came to her, or her choices. There was always that part of him that could get angry.

"I haven't seen you in two years Vas."

"Who's fault is that?" he stated flatly.

Myla could feel tears brimming in her eyes, and she didn't want him to know he'd hurt her. She refused to turn around.

"I came back looking for you. I walked to your flat on foot. Without Alonso's help. And when you weren't there I went back to the one place I could be safe while I looked for you. And then you find me, and you're gone the next day?"

"Myla, I'm trying to save the damn city. It's not exactly the perfect time for a reunion. Don't forget that you were the one who left."

"Because I was drowning Vas. If I had stayed another night in this city I would have ended up dead." Myla's fingers tightened on the cart. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve an explanation. "I... thought now when it mattered the most we could be a family again. When I heard people were sick Vas, all I could think of was you."

"It still doesn't change how you left. It mattered to me then."

"You were plenty busy. You gave me money. Money I always found a way to spend on drugs."

"Jesus, Myla." Vasiliy took a step back.

Myla kept walking. Vasiliy followed her from a distance as they both walked back to the Olympian. The copier fit in the elevator well enough, but Vasiliy had to wait for the next ride up.

The argument she had with the professor had lasted only a few minutes before the professor relinquished the book to her. She made quick black and white copies of the first half of the book before handing Lumen back to the professor.

"I'll finish the other half of the book when you take your next break." Myla said. "Where's Quinlan?"

"Somewhere nearby." the professor mumbled.

Myla ignored Vasiliy as he stepped off the elevator. She could tell by the way he tilted his head and bit the inside of his cheek that he'd felt bad about their argument.

"Professor, can I get you some food?" she asked.

His eye still scanned the page. Only briefly did he look up.

"What was that dear?" he asked.

"Food, Professor. Can I get you some?"

"Oh no, I'm quite alright." he muttered turning back to his book.

Myla raised an eyebrow, but quickly drew her attention to Vasiliy.

"You see what I have to deal with?" she said.

"Well the professor was never a peach." Vasiliy said.

"But he was a zombie?" she asked.

"Well. Not to this degree I suppose. Did you say something about food?" he asked.

"Yeah let me get you something from downstairs."

Myla had taken her time making some lunch for the three of them. Despite the professor's refusal. Myla wasn't about to have a repeat of last night. But it seemed that trouble would always find a home.

She came up to the top floor already hearing Vasiliy talking to Quinlan.

"Well Justine's convinced them to send in the big guns. The army going to send in reinforcements, and with the police and volunteers, we can take back the city. None of this hero shit needs to happen." Vasiliy said.

"It took cunning and skill for you to harm the Master at all with your little stunt with the sunlight. And good luck convincing your new comers of what's really the problem here. Half of New York doesn't know what this is, and you think they're going to listen to you?"

"Look, I'm not going to listen to some half-muncher, and some damn book-"

"Vasiliy Fet!" Myla said, suddenly sounding like their mother.

"What!"

"You know as well as anyone this is a team effort, and that Abraham and Quinlan give you a damn good shot at exterminating your damn 'munchers.' So maybe you should reign it in a little, and consider working with them."

"I'm doing good work out there." Vasiliy said.

"Or you just don't want to work with me." Myla stated. "You don't know where to put me, or what to do with me."

Vasiliy was silent as he took his sandwich, and turned back towards the elevators. His silver badge was shining in the light.

"Maybe. I don't know." was all he said before he left again.

The room was silent, Myla only hoped it wasn't as embarrassing as it felt.

Myla took a plate to the professor, setting it by it's side.

"You need to eat that by nightfall, or I will force you to eat it." Myla said. "No more repeats of last night."

Abraham looked up at her, giving her a small scowl before returning to the book. Myla did however see him give a slight nod.

Quinlan was standing by the bar, still fussing with a handwritten page of the professor's scribbling.

Myla walked over to the bar, another small craving came for her to have a drink. But she ignored it.

"Here, managed to make these. Their black and white, but at least it's page by page and in order. If you're going to do this, you two ought to do it right.

"Thank you, this will be an improvement." Quinlan said as a matter of factly. Myla lightly touched his arm as she left his side, before she quietly retreating into the back bedroom.

The outburst with Vasiliy had made both Quinlan and the professor uncomfortable for a short moment. But Myla returned later to make sure the professor had eaten, then she sat with them quietly, reading something she had found in one of the other rooms.

She hadn't seemed bothered by Vasiliy's final statement. But more so aware of their relationship, despite the passage of time between them. Siblings always did know how to have a proper argument.

But, what had struck him was how she raised her voice to defend him. Scolding Vasiliy with a look that told him to be kind. Her eyes had been soft and sad, something that had pained him. But he looked at her now and found himself admiring the girl for her resourcefulness. She'd hauled such a large machine down the street just so he could have a copy of the Lumen. Quinlan felt it was a sort of gift.

She was truly kind. Something he's found to be quite rare amongst humans, at least in the true sense. Everyone can be nice to a degree. But to stick up for a stranger... he admired that.


End file.
